


Exciting New Possibilities

by Bottomfeeder



Category: Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: Challenge (Unofficial): iPod Shuffle, F/M, Het, POV: Birkhoff (Nikita 2010)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-07
Updated: 2012-03-07
Packaged: 2017-11-01 14:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bottomfeeder/pseuds/Bottomfeeder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nikita and Birkhoff share a little taste of Utopia, Division-style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exciting New Possibilities

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to do that iPod Shuffle Challenge, not bothering with the length-of-song time-constraints, but at least trying to keep this to a drabble or triple-drabble. Well that didn't happen. Still, something about this fandom makes me much more capable of brevity than other fandoms. 
> 
> The song that gave birth to this fic is YACHT's "Utopia (The Miracles Club Remix)", which you can probably still find on The Hype Machine.
> 
> Also, I would like to point out that this fic has a title that will actually make sense to people this time around, apparently unlike my other one, which I'll probably change if I ever get around to it.

The humidity is a smack in the face, clings like a wet cotton shroud. Birkhoff finds himself franticly dredging up meditation techniques just to stave off hyperventilation. He ransacks the dark recesses of his memories to that time when he was regularly hooking up with that crazy-bendy (and also crazy-crazy, what a sex buzzkill that was) yoga instructor, way back before Division.

 

Deep inhale... Hold. Slowly exhale... Repeat. In... Out. In... Out.

He gets a grip and opens his eyes to a shockingly vivid sunset. He didn't realize so much time has passed. Seems like just a minute ago the sky was a crystal clear afternoon blue. Now it's an encroaching darkness ripped apart at the seams by hot pink contrails and neon orange cumulous clouds. It's hard to look at. He can’t tell if the discomfort is physical, mental or both.

 

“Wow, Nerd. You really need to get out more, stare at something other than a computer screen for a change.” 

 

It's true, so he does. He's basically that voice's bitch, anyway, so why fight it.

Nikita’s stretched out on a pool chair snugged up right next to his own. She wears a teasing smile and not much else. There’s a hint of worry in her eyes. Seems like they never stop worrying. He'd like to take that look away for just a day. He wonders if he'd even recognize her then.

 

“How are you even real?” he mutters. He’s had this exact thought countless times over the years since he first met Nikita, but the question suddenly seems pressing at this exact moment. 

 

To stop himself from saying something truly incriminating, he takes a healthy dose of the drink the conveniently-timed waiter brings them on a shiny silver tray. Definitely a mistake. His head immediately starts spinning like the teacups at Disneyland.

 

“Fuck, Niki. What the hell’s in this – battery acid with a splash of distilled death ray? Are you trying to roofie me?”

 

Nikita throws her head back and laughs. And then immediately grabs at her temples like she’s just as disoriented. But her dark eyes radiate warmth when she smirks at him.

 

“You know, you’re the only one who calls me that.”

 

Berkoff holds Nikita’s triple-dog-dare-you gaze and tosses back what’s left of his liquefied death ray. All he understands at this moment is that the concrete under his bare feet is still almost hotter than he can stand despite the time of day, the drinks at this resort are the same radioactive pink as the setting sun, and, despite appearances, _not_ for pussies.

 

Also, it is his fate to die a very violent and very painful death at Michael’s hands for what he is about to do next.

 

He leans forward. “Don’t let Michael kill me,” he says directly into her ear, as if the message will travel better that way. Worth a shot.

 

Nikita flashes the expression of someone intrigued and panicky and excited all at the same time. Because he’s in love with an adrenaline junkie with a heart of gold.

 

“There’s enough of me to go a—”

 

He reaches out suddenly and pulls at the string on the bottom half of Niki’s white-hot white bikini, made all the hotter for the way it almost glows in contrast with her skin. He lunges forward and thinks, _In for a penny..._ Nikita's kiss is both ravenous and unbearably sweet. Whenever he comes up for air it leaves a sting like a sunburn.

The insides of their wrists knock together when they each try to hold the other's face. Birkhoff wonders what it means that their pulses have synchronized to the same scrap of Morse code.

 _S.O.S._ , he thinks, lost in a dreamy daze. The same urgent signal, over and over and over again. _S.O.S.S.O.S.S.O.S.S.O.S...._

It's his last coherent thought for a long time.

 

 

 

**{{(((S-O-S)))}}**

 

 

 

“That’s enough. I don’t want them to burn out. Not before I’ve had a chance to really see what’s inside, anyway.”

 

On the other side of the glass cage the recruits have taken to calling the Fish Tank, Amanda snaps her fingers at the brilliant, albeit somewhat creepy, new hire responsible for creating the intriguing new technology.

 

Shared consciousness. Who would’ve thought that was actually possible and not just something out of one of Berkoff’s ridiculous comic books.

 

Well. There certainly are a lot of exciting new possibilities on the horizon now that Percy and Oversight have been respectively dealt with and her place at the head of Division is finally secured. 

 

Amanda steps forward to get a closer look and smiles at the way her reflection in the glass overlays her two unconscious test subjects. At the way they’re clothed in sterile white scrubs and connected by intricate machinery and electrical wires. It's like something out of a paranoiac’s worst nightmare. 

 

It’s not a pleasant smile. Just like her impeccably tailored skirt and flawless hair, she wields it to devastating effect.

 

**-[End]-**

 


End file.
